


first dates

by serenfire



Category: Warcraft (2016)
Genre: Asexual Character, Cheesy, Fluff, Humor, Khadgar my ace child, M/M, No one is good at emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 05:43:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7155941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenfire/pseuds/serenfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, Lothar must hang out with Khadgar to ensure he's not lonely or turning evil.</p><p>Then he realizes he cares about Azeroth's new Guardian (very much so) and hangs out with Khadgar of his own initiative.</p>
            </blockquote>





	first dates

**Author's Note:**

> All my knowledge is from the movie and the WoW wikia. 
> 
> If I know you in real life, do not read this.

It really shouldn’t be Anduin’s job to watch over Azeroth’s new Guardian. He already has a day job, mostly consisting of walking around Stormwind and generally looking as noble and unaffected by the tragedy of last month as possible. 

He _likes_ his job. It requires very little effort on his part to be the Lion of Azeroth, as the orcs haven’t regrouped and attacked yet. So he alternates his days between drinking himself to oblivion and watching Taria be a 500% better ruler than he could ever be. 

Until one day she looks at Anduin and says, “I haven’t seen Khadgar around in a while.” 

Anduin shrugs. “Not my problem, is it?” 

“He is our new Guardian, Anduin, whether you like it or not,” Taria says. She’s lounging on the throne of Stormwind like it was made for her, and Anduin is leaning against the wall, glaring at the scratches on his sword. 

“Which means he can take care of himself. I’m not your errand boy.” 

“He’s the only person in that tower!” Taria says, as if Anduin is missing the point. (He probably is.) “He might be a mage, but he’s got to be _lonely_. And considering he has access to all manner of destructive spells, it would be better for the kingdom if you made sure he wasn’t up to no good.” 

Anduin raises his eyebrows. “Oh, so this is for _Azeroth_ , now is it?” 

“If that’s what gets you off your ass,” Taria shrugs. “You can take a bird.” 

“Oh, _can_ I.” 

* 

“Okay,” Anduin says to himself as he lands at Khadgar’s tower, not a single soul in sight. “He killed Fel-possessed Medivh with me. He’s not going to hold a grudge over me because I punched him when he trespassed in my barracks. With all his books, he probably hasn’t gotten to _Spells to kill those you hold grudges against_ yet.” 

He slowly pushes the door open, and the only light coming into the giant library is from the high windows. The bookshelves look undisturbed. 

“Hello?” Anduin calls into the nethers and the shadows. “Anyone here?” 

“ _Lothar_?” Khadgar appears behind him, startling Anduin into bumping headfirst into a rather thickly-bound tome. 

“ _Ow_. Yes, it’s me.” Anduin presses his hands against the new bump on his scalp. “Are all your books this lethal?” 

“Generally not by themselves,” Khadgar says, and his face is twitching oddly suspiciously, like he’s trying not to laugh. “Here, I can help.” He shoos Anduin’s hands away and presses his own to the wound, murmuring something that lights his hands and eyes up bright blue. The pain decreases almost instantaneously. 

Anduin’s heart jumps a beat. The mage’s eyes remind him so much of Medivh, poisoned by the Fel, bright green and promising a sudden death-- 

“Lothar? You with me?” The mage snaps his fingers a few times, and Anduin smiles. 

“I’m with you.” 

“Did it work?” 

“Think so,” Anduin nods. He touches his forehead again, glaring at the oversized tome that caused this mess. The bump has disappeared. 

“Yes,” Khadgar grins, rubbing his hands together in glee. 

“You _did_ know it was going to work, right?” Anduin clarifies. 

“Well, I assumed it would work. You see, I’ve learned so many new spells, but I haven’t exactly been able to try any of them out. There’s just no one to try them out on.” 

“Taria was right, you _are_ lonely,” Anduin frowns, and looks Khadgar up and down. The young mage is obviously not dressed for company, a robe pulled over what appears to be pajamas, fluffy slippers peeking out beneath it. His hair is also a mess. “What are _those_?” He points at the monstrosities on the mage’s feet. 

Khadgar takes a step back. “I can wear whatever I want,” he defends. “This is _my_ tower now.” 

“Yeah, great decision that was,” Anduin huffs. “ _Anyway_ , you’d better get dressed to go out. I am here to make sure you aren’t lonely and turning evil on us, and apparently that requires human contact.” 

“Aw, Lothar, I didn’t know you _cared_ ,” Khadgar smiles. 

“I don’t,” growls Anduin. “I really don’t.” 

* 

_When Khadgar gets dressed, he_ really _dresses up,_ Anduin notes as the mage appears from a side door moments later. 

“Ta-da!” Khadgar says, doing a small twirl. “Is this fit for human interaction?” 

Anduin squints. He hasn’t seen the mage in something that wasn’t loose and flowy before, and apparently when wearing tight-fitting attire, Khadgar looks _really good_ in it. 

“It’s fine,” he dismisses, ignoring his stomach, that flip-flops. 

“Where are we going?” Khadgar asks as they walk out to the bird. 

“Well, I hadn’t planned out an itinerary. I was going to go to a bar and just...go from there. You don’t need to meet anyone in particular, don’t worry.” Anduin takes Khadgar’s hand and helps him climb atop the bird. 

“Great plan,” Khadgar grins. “Really.” 

“Shut up,” Anduin smiles back, as they rocket into the sky. 

* 

When they land in Stormwind, Khadgar promptly gets off the bird and pukes into the bushes. 

“You weren’t this sick the last time you rode a bird,” Anduin says. 

“I was riding on an empty stomach then,” Khadgar frowns. “And maybe don’t insult me when I could projectile vomit on you at any moment, yeah?” 

Anduin takes two giant steps back. “Now I can insult you.” 

Khadgar flips him off while stumbling down the path, regaining his land legs. “Where did you say the nearest bar is?” 

* 

They drink their first pints in silence as Khadgar surreptitiously looks around the bar’s clientele. 

“Guess you haven’t seen this many people since last month,” Anduin says. 

“No, it’s not that. I haven’t been in running distance of a Stormwind knight in _ages_ ,” Khadgar whispers back. There’s a chance he’s slightly more tipsy than Anduin, who has been conditioning his liver ever since Callan died. Khadgar motions to the mark on his arm, hidden under sleeves. “Not since I went on the run from the Kirin Tor.” 

“How long ago was that?” Anduin had been imagining (not that he’d been _thinking_ about Khadgar, per se) that when the fresh-faced mage broke into his barracks, he had been newly cut off from the most prestigious magical institution this century, and overeager to test his boundaries. 

Khadgar considers, eyes unfocusing a few times. Definitely more tipsy. “Um--a decade? No, eight years. Not quite a decade.” He smiles in remembrance. 

“Holy _shit_ ,” Anduin says, impressed. “That’s quite a while to be a fugitive.” 

“I was never hiding,” Khadgar corrects. “Just--y’know, _avoiding_. The Kirin Tor would take me back in a heartbeat, if I ever recanted. And I knew that, every day, but I had a different calling than being my family’s sacrificial lamb.” 

“What were you doing?” 

“Medical work, mostly. I don’t know many combat spells, but I can heal. Secretly, of course. Not many citizens of Azeroth want to know that they’ve been cured with magic. That’s why I broke into your barracks originally, you know. To see if there was anyone alive I could cure.” 

“How noble of you,” Anduin says, like it’s a normal thing, to give up prestigious training in the arcane arts to become a vigilante medic. And then to become the Guardian of Azeroth. “How’s your new job working out for you?” 

Khadgar puts his head in his hands. “ _Well_ , I will finish all the books in the Tower in about five years, so then I will be able to help Queen Taria and fight against the orcs.” 

“Five years, you say,” Anduin hums. “We might need you sooner than that.” 

“You and everyone else,” Khadgar says. “For your information, I did not _ask_ to be the Guardian. I’m _absolutely fine_ with being it, but I can’t be on call to help your wars, especially until I learn to handle myself in combat.” 

“Got it,” Anduin notes. “No wars for the Guardian until he turns thirty.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” laughs Khadgar, and punches him in the arm. 

* 

“Why are we here?” Anduin says, even as Khadgar has a firm grip on his sleeve and drags him up the steps. 

“I want to see the entire city,” Khadgar says breathlessly. “If there’s one thing I can say about the Ivory Tower, it’s that the view is spectacular.” 

Anduin stops behind Khadgar, who stops at the top of the steps, breathing heavily, swaying in the tipsy manner of people who can’t hold their liquor. Beyond them stretches the entirety of Stormwind. 

“This is officially the best,” pronounces Khadgar, sitting on the ground and spreading his arms at the view of the sunset. “The very best.” He murmurs some words, and blue magic surrounds his hands, dissolving into the wind. 

“What did you just do?” Anduin asks, sitting down beside him. 

“It’s a magnifying spell. _Look_ , you can see everything.” 

And Anduin can. If he looks, he can see Taria clearly, standing on the balcony of the palace, chatting with Varian. He can see the best of Stormwind’s army stumbling out of a mess hall, drunk with victory and happiness, off duty and giddy. 

“So you like to observe from afar,” Anduin notes. “Not get in the action yourself.” 

Khadgar frowns at him. “I’ve told you my past, Lothar. It’s not like I’ve had ample opportunity to interact with others. I’m not a normal person.” 

“Neither of us are normal, but I have friends.” 

“Really? I thought they were all dead.” 

They’re silent for a moment. 

“Sorry,” Khadgar blurts. “That was out of line.” 

“No, you’re right. Most everyone I know is dead.” 

They sit in silence for a little while longer. Then Anduin leers, “That’s why you didn’t want to lie with Garona. Because you just enjoy _looking_.” 

Khadgar punches him in the arm and sputters. “No,” he laughs. “And while that _isn’t_ any of your business, I don’t want to lay with anyone. Ever.” 

“Really?” frowns Anduin. “ _Ever_?” 

Khadgar nods like it’s perfectly logical. “I meant looking like instead of having to _talk_ to people, Lothar. Get your head out of the gutter.” 

Anduin frowns. “But, like, _no one_? Not even if they’re attractive?” He’s not quite sure why he’s asking this question. (His gut knows, but he’s ignoring it.) 

“There’s more to life than attraction,” Khadgar rolls his eyes. “For instance, there’s the _heart_.” 

“Oh, right,” Anduin rolls his eyes. “The heart. Personally, I haven’t had to use my heart. People just like me because of my looks.” 

He can almost swear he hears Khadgar murmur, “I’m sure they do,” in an overbearing tone, but a second later, Khadgar is scrambling up. 

“Sun’s almost down,” the mage explains. “I want to thank your sister for making you hang out with me.” 

“And how do you propose we get to the castle without transportation before the sun is down?” Anduin frowns. 

Khadgar pulls a ring of blue magic around him. “We teleport, of course.” 

* 

After Khadgar has gone back to the Tower, probably to sleep off his hangover amongst his beloved books, Taria puts a hand on Anduin’s shoulder. 

“At least now we know he isn’t going mad from the lack of interaction with people,” Taria says. “He looks happy.” 

“Good for him,” Anduin says, staring out at the view from the palace. Khadgar’s spell has long since dissipated. 

“I think you should continue to interact with him. You can be the official message-bearer between the nobility of Azeroth and the Guardian. Besides, if you make a friend out of him, there’s a significant chance he won’t side with the orcs and try to open the Dark Portal.” 

“But what if I don’t want to be his friend?” Anduin says suddenly. “What if I want to be something--else?” 

Taria makes a weird movement with her face behind him, and it takes a moment for Anduin to realize that she’s _laughing_. 

“This isn’t funny.” 

“Of course not,” she assures. “Except it is. You’re a _prince_ and the _Lion of Azeroth_. If you want him, _go get him_.” 

“But he doesn’t _like_ people like that,” Anduin says. “He’s focused on the heart.” 

Taria almost slaps him. “Okay. Anduin, I am _not_ your matchmaker, but this isn’t that complicated. _If so, appeal to his heart, you idiot._ ” 

“And how do I do that?” 

* 

Anduin waits a week so he doesn’t come off as clingy, then shows up on the front steps of the Tower. He knocks on the door this time, to be polite. 

Khadgar slowly creaks the door open, staring with confusion. “You’re back,” he says. His face is covered in paint, and he smells like old must. “Does Queen Taria want something else from me?” 

“I’m not here because of her,” Anduin forces himself to say. He hasn’t felt this apprehensive since--since _forever_. “I’m here because of myself.” He shows Khadgar the basket he has hidden behind his back. “I was wondering if you would like to go to lunch.” 

“Oh.” Khadgar blinks and looks down at his hands and his clothes, all of which are covered in paint. “I need to finish this first; come in.” 

Anduin slowly closes the giant door behind him, and looks at what he interrupted Khadgar for. 

“Medivh had a terrible taste in color,” Khadgar informs him as he picks his paint roller back up. “If I’m going to spend the rest of my life in here, I need colors I can actually concentrate in.” 

“Can I help?” Anduin asks. 

Khadgar wrinkles his nose. “I’m actually trying to get it to dry with magic, and I don’t want to accidentally stick you against the wall, too. I’m almost done with this wall, just wait a second.” 

So Anduin waits patiently and wills his stomach to stop fluttering as he looks at Khadgar half-covered in pastel blue paint, standing on a ladder and applying the paint roller to the little bit of wall not yet covered. 

He stands, and he yawns, and he recites what he’s going to say in his head--something along the lines of _I like you with my heart to, idiot mage_ \--and doesn’t move when a gallop of paint splatters on his head. 

Anduin sputters and wipes it off his forehead. “What was _that_ for?” 

“To stop you looking so constipated. Asking someone out on a date is supposed to make you feel _good_ , not awkward.” 

“I--how did you know? Can you read my mind?” Anduin says, frowning slightly. 

“Not yet,” grins Khadgar. “Lothar, you’re very easy to read, trust me. Your emotions are displayed for all to see. Of course, if you _want_ me to read your mind, I’m sure there’s a spell for that somewhere.” 

“Please don’t,” Anduin says quickly. “So...that’s a yes?” 

Khadgar rolls his eyes, jumping off the ladder and walking up to him. “That’s a yes,” he says, and up close, Khadgar’s smile is the most genuine thing Anduin has seen in awhile. “By the way, Lothar, you’re mostly blue now. You might want to wash off before the picnic.” 

“Is there even a sink in this place?” Anduin says, mostly to himself. 

Khadgar pauses at a side door. “This is Karazhan, not a hut in the hills, Lothar. Trust me. _There’s a sink_.” 

Anduin follows him through the door, grinning and wiping the blue paint out of his hair. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll write smut with them soon, I swear. 
> 
> Please hmu at my [tumblr](http://www.trans-reyskywalker.tumblr.com)!


End file.
